


Happy Accident

by ashwritesstuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BeardBurnForBrienne2k19, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff, beardwatch2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashwritesstuff/pseuds/ashwritesstuff
Summary: The idea of a corporate costume ball leaves Brienne flustered, but alas, duty calls and she must attend.





	Happy Accident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WackyGoofball](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WackyGoofball/gifts).



> For WackyGoofball, on the occasion of her birth. Wacky’s sense of humor, brilliant fic, and equally brilliant artwork are legendary and I’m glad she is my friend. For her birthday, I’ve written this little fluffy ficlet, based on recent photos of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and Gwendoline Christie. Wacky, I am glad you were born and I hope this makes you smile. I raise my glass to you, my friend!

Brienne Tarth looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, running her fingers through her fine, tousled bob. She had been at the company costume ball for a grand total of fifteen minutes and had managed to spill a glass of water all down her front. Brienne dried her beautiful golden gown as best she could with paper towels, but was still a little damp.

 

 _Why can’t I act like a coordinated adult outside of fencing class?_ Brienne thought, sighing at her reflection. It was fortunate that she had decided to hydrate before imbibing, opting for a glass of water rather than her usual whiskey or beer. Her gown would have been a total ruin otherwise. Sansa and Margaery had worked so diligently to help her get ready for this ball. The two of them had worked on Brienne for what felt like the entire day, coifing her unruly hair to perfection, adding the perfect amount of makeup to give her a natural and classy look, and helping her into her dress. Arya had supervised the entire ordeal, making sarcastic comments as her sister and Margaery primped and poked at Brienne. Arya wore dresses about as often as Brienne did—never. Immensely uncomfortable in anything dressier than a snappy business suit and flats, Brienne had appreciated Arya’s witticisms as she was given a crash course in formal wear.

 

“It _is_ a costume ball, ladies,” Brienne had groaned as Sansa worked mousse into Brienne’s damp hair. “Why do I have to wear a formal dress to a costume ball? Can’t I wear my lady knight armor? Or my Captain Phasma armor? That would be so much more comfortable than a dress.”

 

“Brienne, it’s a _ball_. How do you expect to dance with _him_ , clanking about in chrome or plate metal?” Margaery sighed as she rummaged through mascara and eyeliner, looking for the perfect color to emphasize Brienne’s astonishingly blue eyes. “Besides, this Belle dress is both formal _and_ a costume. Also, it has pockets, so there’s a win right there.”

 

“Like _he_ would ask me to dance anyway,” Brienne sighed. “Besides, he won’t return from his trip until next week. He won’t even be there.”

 

 “You never know,” Arya had smirked at her. “He _does_ like to dance. I doubt he’d miss this.”

 

Brienne closed her eyes at the memory and exhaled. She should get back out there.

 

Attending another corporate function was the last way Brienne Tarth wanted to spend her Friday evening, but as head of the network security department at LannisTarth Enterprises, her presence was required to create more of a “team” atmosphere for her co-workers. She had to set a good example. It was her duty.

 

However, spilling her drink and embarrassing herself in front of her friends were not likely to encourage them to attend any more of these teambuilding celebrations. It couldn’t have been helped though. _He_ had walked through the door.

 

He had been away on a business trip up north for the past two weeks and had apparently arrived back just in time to attend this little soiree. She’d been admiring him from across the room at fencing class and across the table at board meetings, but had been a little too shy to talk to him apart from business matters. He was impossibly handsome, and despite having a slightly arrogant bravado, was actually a kind person. Brienne noticed the little details about him—how he had coached the college interns, Podrick and Peck, in their duties, giving them more responsibility than just coffee runs. He ran a tough game with their competitors, but never stooped to nefarious business practices as his father had done. Tywin Lannister had been forced out by his sons and her father Selwyn, his former business partner, into early “retirement” due to his underhanded dealings. No, _he_ was a man of honor. Even in fencing class, he fought fairly. It was a large class, so it was unlikely he even knew she was there, but his skill was the stuff of legends.

 

Now, _he_ had the audacity to show up looking like _that_. Brienne had noticed that he’d been wearing his hair a little longer in recent memory, but it seemed to have grown another inch since she’d seen him last. Brienne had daydreamed about running her fingers through his mane on more than one occasion, but if he kept his hair like this, she would be completely useless at board meetings. However, his hair was now the least of her worries. What had been half an inch of stubble at the most before he left was now a full-on beard. His golden mane now fully realized on his face as the lion of his family’s crest. His beard was golden with a few flecks of silver, delicately sprinkled on his chin and chiseled jawline. Her daydreams would now be shifting from running her fingers through his hair to stroking his lush beard. Brienne felt herself blush at the very idea. Preparing herself to get back out to the dance hall, Brienne breathed in deeply, exhaled, squared her shoulders, and stepped out the door.

 

Spying Sansa, Margaery, and Arya chatting at the refreshment table, she started towards them. She was almost to the table when someone knocked into her, nearly causing her to take a tumble. Strong arms reached out and caught her before she fell. Brienne grabbed hold of the arms to steady herself.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Excuse…” Brienne started, when her breath hitched and her words caught in her throat. It was him.

 

“My apologies. I was just looking for…” Jaime Lannister had started, but then he seemed to swallow his words as well.

 

The pair stood there for a moment, eyeing each other, taking each other in. Suddenly realizing their position, the released each other and backed away a step, skittish as pre-teens at a middle school dance.

 

“…you, actually. I love your dress, Brienne. And what you’ve done with your hair…you look great,” Jaime spoke, almost shyly. “And it seems I’ve dressed appropriately for the occasion as well.” He gestured towards his costume.

 

Jaime Lannister had tousled his golden hair, leaving it a little wild, a little messy, to offer a beastly effect. His beard was thick and full, begging to be stroked. But even with his handsome face and hair, his costume had been the real cause of Brienne’s distraction. Jaime Lannister had shown up dressed as none other than The Beast from _Beauty and the Beast_.

 

Her Beast.

 

Brienne quickly shot a glance at the refreshment table and saw her three friends staring at her, giggling into their cups.

_They knew_. She would be sure to throttle the three of them later, but there were more pressing matters.

 

She turned back to look at Jaime, blushing. Mustering her courage, Brienne smiled and said, “It seems we match, Jaime.” Brienne took him in, admiring his costume.

 

“A happy accident, indeed,” Jaime purred. The music swelled through the ballroom and Jaime offered his hand. “Come on, my sweetling, the music's still playing. Might I have this dance, my lady? I’ve seen you move in fencing class. I think such grace and finesse should transfer to the dance floor.”

 

Brienne blushed and then laughed. “I didn’t know you even knew I was in the class.”

 

“How could I miss you? You knock every opponent into the dust. You make it look easy. I don’t know that there’s anyone else in the class that could take you…except me.” Jaime smirked and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Is that a challenge? We’ll have to see about that,” Brienne grinned wickedly. “Now, as for this, I don’t dance much, so you’ll have to teach me.” She took his hand and her Beast lead her to the dance floor.

 

Tyrion Lannister approached the passel of giggling girls at the refreshment table, eyeing his brother and his Beauty as they swayed to the music. “Ladies, I think we’ve done good work this evening. It’s about time they quit mooning at each other from across the board room,” Tyrion laughed as he slipped an arm around Sansa and Margaery’s waists. The four of them had to smile as Jaime and Brienne moved closer together, Jaime closing the distance between them as their lips met.

 

A happy accident, indeed.


End file.
